[ he doesn't quite sit beside her; he leaves more space between his own back and the wall, because there's no point in leaning against it when she's meant to see it. it's very strange and it does strike him as such, because it's not like he willingly exposes himself like this. ]
[ and yet. ]
[ he tugs his shirt up as best he can, exposing his lower back and partially the middle. the scar drops below the waist of his pants. it's healed, there's no danger of the skin breaking open. but it's long, traveling up the length of his entire spine and disappearing under his shirt where it's bunched up at his shoulder blades. it's wider near the bottom and the middle, narrowing as it goes higher from there. it's clean with surgical precision, but it's still fairly noticeable, even against the array of all the other scars across his back. ]
[ it makes him nervous. there's no real fear about it, and he doesn't feel unsafe, it's just strange and uncertain. worried, maybe, about things he can't pinpoint either. ]
no subject
[ and yet. ]
[ he tugs his shirt up as best he can, exposing his lower back and partially the middle. the scar drops below the waist of his pants. it's healed, there's no danger of the skin breaking open. but it's long, traveling up the length of his entire spine and disappearing under his shirt where it's bunched up at his shoulder blades. it's wider near the bottom and the middle, narrowing as it goes higher from there. it's clean with surgical precision, but it's still fairly noticeable, even against the array of all the other scars across his back. ]
[ it makes him nervous. there's no real fear about it, and he doesn't feel unsafe, it's just strange and uncertain. worried, maybe, about things he can't pinpoint either. ]